Officially Ancient

We went away as a family for the last couple of days. Having been forbidden to write about that part of my life you’ll never know the joy experienced by one and all. What you will get is a glimpse of what life’s like when two adults are limited in their adult-like behavior due to the proximity of someone a tad less adult.

We did get to do a good chunk of yard work so that was good. Of course, in life, where there is good there must be things not so good. And, to me, one of those things is shopping. I know I’ve mentioned my hatred for all things shopping so I won’t bore you with the fact that a local chain, Christmas Tree Shop, sucks the souls of men and mixes it into a blender on frenzy. I’ve petitioned they rename the chain, Carries Total Shit. I’ve yet to hear back from them.

Soul sucking bastards.

So you can understand my joy when we traipsed from store to store in search of I DON’T FUCKING KNOW! To the best of my knowledge, and I’m pretty knowledgeable for an idiot, there was no specific reason to be in any of these stores. It’s a good thing I’ve had so many concussions. I can black out at the drop of an anvil (makes living next to The Acme Corporation anvil test grounds very convenient).

At one store I’m sitting alone in a room staring at my feet. Don’t get me wrong, I felt blessed to have the seat and solitude but I’d much rather have been having steak and suds. I’m sitting in the room for between five and fifty-six minutes when a couple of women walk in. They’re looking around and one walks towards me.

“I’m not for sale.” They laugh and one of them says,

“Pity. I was going to ask the saleswoman about you.”

“What would you say? How much is that weird looking guy-like statue? I have some crows in my yard I want to frighten.”

They laugh again, but, more importantly, exit leaving me to my sneaker watching.

But, sometimes the numbness doesn’t fully take over. I find myself coming to while wandering aimlessly through some random store. When that happened yesterday I found myself in an antique store. I think what brought me to was that antique store smell. The way I can best describe the smell would be to say it’s probably what John Wayne Gacy’s house smelled like before his arrest.

But, because I’m a dutiful boyfriend and I’ve already found that being in one place for too long brings buyers, I wander. It was during this wandering at the antique store I was handed my old-timers badge.

Right there, on the shelf, was a copy of a book I’d been featured in. I’ve seen it in used book stores (where, if no ones looking, I sign my bits) but to see something with your work in it in an antique store sure makes you want to break out the prune juice and depends.

The book in question (because I know someone would ask) is an awesome tome entitled ‘The Best Of The Best American Humor’ from the editors of Funny Times. It can be purchased at many places on line including or at an antique store in Dennis, MA.


14 responses to “Officially Ancient

  1. But, don’t you just love a bargain?

    I’d ask which antique store in Dennis, but they all look the same to me.

  2. Don’t you just love a beating?

  3. Just for that, I’m going to the CTS and get you several of the off-the-creepometer empty child-size ceramic overalls for your yard.

  4. Wow! Thanks! But how’d you know the town was getting ready to fine me for all the ceramic naked children in my yard?

  5. Sounds exciting! Thanks for the update, Chris!

  6. Aah, prune juice and Depends! Talk about your intestinal symbiosis!

  7. You know what they say, you can’t chop down symmetry.

    Fun fact! I’m the only one to use the word fuck in that book. Amazingly, that fact wasn’t the resume highlight I thought it would be.

  8. “… what John Wayne Gacy’s house smelled like before his arrest.”

    Your words are like a fiery sunset, engraving a lasting image of… well, of some pretty good shit.

    I only drag Mr. J to shopping centers that have a sit down bar inside. He drinks, I shop… works for both of us.

  9. I loved the “John Wayne Gacy” thing, you really nailed that one. And the book is a two-edged sword… how wonderful to be recognized in a book, and how horrifying to find it an antique store. I hope you signed it.

    Before I left MA I started buying my clothes at the Christmas Tree Shop. My friends were humiliated to be seen with me because all my clothes and flip-flops said CAPE COD somewhere on them…but hey, $5 for a great sweatshirt is just an excellent bargain. I don’t care what it says.

  10. Years ago, on a trip to Maine, my mother and I made my father and my husband go into a Christmas Tree Shop with us. The menfolk were mortified and vowed revenge, but I got the BEST pizza slicer ever! And for only 25 cents! It is plastic, with a curved blade edge, sort of crescent-moon shaped with a handle and you rock it back and forth to cut the slices, and the kids can’t cut themselves; and yes the middle one tried to after I had made that observation.

  11. Betme: I only drag Mr. J to shopping centers that have
    a sit down bar inside.
    You are a truly wonderful and caring spouse.

    Wendy: . . .how horrifying to find it an antique store.
    I thought it was funny. My first thought upon seeing the spine was, “Awesome! If I can get a bit outta this the trip will have purpose!” My head lives in a very odd world.

    Wendy: I hope you signed it.
    I didn’t have a pen.

    Wendy and Becky: CTS
    Yes, they have bargains. Yes, cheap shirts and pizza slicers are the greatest things of all time. You got me. But for every awesome slotted spoon there are aisles and aisles of things that look like the Blair Witch Project bush.

    There are gems but the problem is the time it takes to find them. How many times have I seen someone block the way to marvel at a wonder and heard them say,

    “Oh look! A Magna Carta scrimshaw!”

    I’ve often said CTS would be the greatest store of all time if, right there in the middle surrounded by $19.99 chocolate fountains, there was a bar.

    Then, oh then my friends, it would be the greatest store of all time.

    Until then, it’s just another reason why men (left-handed men sooner) die earlier than their women.

  12. Some people are born to shop and some have shopping thrust upon them.

  13. I swear that was the first thing people asked me when I said I was new to living in Mass: Have you been to Christmas Tree Shop yet!? I was able to avoid it for over a year. Truthfully I was scared to go in!

  14. See? It’s a cult! Those insidious bastards! It’s like they get points by recruiting others to follow them into that building of pure evil that sucks the souls of shoppers into a vortex of sin and degradation (to paraphrase Emo Philips).

    I’m glad you held out for as long as you could.

    Don’t you just love a deprogramming?

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